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short poem

Sonne trat unten von seinem goldenen Throne
Sie sind frei
stern kalter Mann
Meister der menschlichen Schicksale sind ich
wenn ich sterbe, denken Sie nur dieses an mich
mittlere Vergnügen und Paläste, obwohl wir durchstreifen können
in seinem vorsichtigen Zelt
in Ihren Armen war ruhige Freude
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein
weich jetzt das Licht des Tages
ein Leben auf der Ozeanwelle

 



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